Mindless Chatter
by MGC
Summary: Eight years have passed since Hannah has seen her uncle for the last time, and she now needs him more than ever. She was the silly kid getting chased around the parking lot, and now she's the girl chasing after whatever family she has left.
1. Prologue: Welcome to Charming

_Prologue: Welcome to Charming_

A red light kept flashing on the officer's desk phone, a call left on hold that he hadn't bothered to answer to yet, the constant reminder invisible to him as he kept going through the papers in front of him. The young girl across from him, on the other hand, had been fixating on it the entire time, silent, her face betraying no emotion as she looked at the dark object, not even glancing at the man even after the social worker had just asked her question.

"Ms. Telford."

His voice had been a little louder this time and the woman made the effort of looking back at him, a surprised look on her face like she hadn't been expecting an exchange.

"I'm sorry?"

"Look, I understand that this is difficult for you, I do, but I'm still going to need a little bit of cooperation from you," he explained, and she didn't answer, her face remaining the same as she let him continue. "I need to know if your mother left anything in your possession considering her will, her accounts, anything that could help us evaluate how to handle the situation."

"No."

The worker sighed but she could tell he was trying very hard to keep his composure in front of her. She was well aware that her attitude wasn't helping him in the slightest but she couldn't seem to find it in her to care. Glancing at the name tag on his desk before going back to his face, the young woman took a calming breath; her jaw so tightly held she could feel her headache growing worse by the second.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cox, I really am," she repeated, and his face showed his exhaustion with her by every movement he made. "She never gave me anything. She never said anything."

Mr. Cox nodded slowly, going back to his papers to note some things down as her eyes went back to the flashing red light. She wondered who was on the other end of the line waiting to get his attention, wishing they would get it so she wouldn't have to hold it anymore. Her eyelids felt heavy over her dark eyes, claiming her a little bit of rest that she couldn't allow herself just yet. The man in front of her brought his papers into a messy pile and placed them back in their file as he looked at her with a mix of compassion and anger, though she couldn't quite figure out which one won over the other.

"This is your first time dealing with social services, am I correct?" he asked her after a moment, bringing his fingers together in front of him with his elbows firm on the table, a stance she was used to seeing with many men she'd met in her short life.

"With you, yes," she answered, sending a quick flash of confusion in the man's eyes before he went back to his serious stare.

"I'm guessing it will be the last," he continued, undisturbed, as the woman shrugged a shoulder slowly.

"I suppose."

Officer Cox let himself smile slightly, his blonde mustache curling upwards as he did so. The girl took a short breath, unable to smile back, her wide eyes waiting for him to elaborate. He took a moment to study her features, a soft child-like face with sad eyes, and fear of the unknown shining through them betraying her feelings and giving a hint of her young age. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be sitting in her place, a nervous wreck surrounded by busy strangers always asking questions. She was tough, he had to give her that, keeping a straight face, holding her tears in, being polite, silent, as cooperative as he thought she could manage to be. But the bright neon atop of their heads and the lack of sleep showed on her face, and he could tell she was straining herself to try and keep it together.

"Your mother _did_ leave something before she passed," the social worker told her, and the teenager brought her body closer as her face lit up with interest.

"She did?"

"Yes."

Officer Cox took a moment to go back in his file and searched for a short time before finding the paper he was looking for. He laid it in front of him, glancing it over before sliding it on the table and turning it so it would face her.

"It's not a will per say, and it doesn't tell us anything about her belongings or anything of the sort," he added, watching as her eyes traced the sheet over and over, comprehension never hitting her face. The reason was simple: the lack of sleep and her tired nerves had her brain in an incomprehensive mess, and her eyes couldn't focus on the words long enough for her to read them.

"What is it about then?" she asked, almost breathless, only glancing for a second at him before she went back to the sheet, a letter busy with her mom's handwriting, a letter she knew she'd read over and over again, but not now.

Now her lungs were empty of any air and her lips felt dry, and her heart was a complete wreck threatening to jump out of her rib cage at any moment.

"It's about you."

"Me?"

The young girl fixated her stare on the man as he nodded, taking the letter back from her to place it with the rest of the paperwork.

"Before passing away, your mother left this note," he explained, stating the obvious as she swallowed, nodding quickly, asking him to go on. "In the possibility that my daughter, Hannah Jane Telford, that's you," he said, reading off the letter and pointing at her when he said her name. "... is still a minor at the time of my passing, she will be sent to live with her legal guardian, Filip Telford, until she reaches at least eighteen years of age."

Hannah's eyes went wide as she let herself fall on the chair, surprised that her mother had even thought about doing any of that. She had never been one for organisation, looking ahead and what not, and hadn't even been able to do a proper will. To learn that she had set a plan for her daughter in the case of her passing broke her heart more than it should have, and the teenager cleared her throat to bring herself back to the present conversation.

"We checked everything, this Filip Telford was indeed declared your legal guardian when your mother passed away," the man added, and Hannah nodded slowly, taking the information in little by little.

It only made sense that she would be sent to her uncle, it was the only family she had left. Yet, she couldn't understand how in the world her mother had been able to bring herself to accept that her only daughter be sent to him if she died. Her mom hated him, hated everything about him: his club, his motorcycle, his accent, his scars, his life. After what had happened with her husband, Hannah's mother had never been able to look at her uncle the same: she saw too much resemblance between the two men. Hannah did too, but that had only made her want to see him more. Unfortunately, she was still a kid the last time she'd gotten to spend a day with him.

"You're sending me to California?"

Her voice had gotten calmer and softer, and the social worker only nodded at her question before making the corner of his mustache rise up again.

"The car is leaving on Tuesday morning at seven, and I'll accompany you myself for the drive down. Any questions?"

Hannah only shook her head, not completely realizing that she had to say goodbye to her home town of Seattle for the last time so she could go live all the way to California with a man she hadn't seen in eight years.

"Where will I sleep?"

"We've settled a temporary room for you in the second wing of the bureau, we're prepared for those eventualities, don't worry," he assured her, and Hannah only nodded.

"Thank you."

The social worker smiled at her again and the young girl managed to answer the gesture for a second, knowing that he was only trying to make her feel comfortable.

"You're welcomed. Come, I'll show you to your room."

Hannah followed Mr. Cox down the hall and through many doors; so much she'd stopped counting, and had finally been brought to her room for two days. The place was small, simple, barely any colors and things to entertain herself with, but it was fine for her. Hannah had never needed much more than a book and her music to handle being alone for long periods of time.

"Make yourself at home," Cox said, and Hannah went to sit on the uncomfortable bed slowly, her shoulders so brought down on herself she looked like a small child. "If you need anything, just ask, there are attendants down the halls at all times... I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Telford."

Hannah looked at the social worker for the last time before letting her face fall, her chest so tight she could feel it crack under the pressure of all the feelings she'd been keeping in for the last couple of hours. Her features twisted in a scowl as her view clouded with tears she couldn't hold back anymore.

"Yeah, me too."

The car was brought to a stop slowly, her body jerking only slightly as she held on harder to the wooden box between her shaking fingers. The remains of her mother were only a small consolation to her being in a completely different place, out of her element and away from everything she ever knew. She did know the place, she remembered being brought here, being passed around for everyone to see, her uncle's arms holding her up like a lost daughter. She remembered laughing, smiles and shouts of celebration, and tall men in leather armor. She remembered getting a sense of what a family was when she came here, and how her parents had been happy. It was only a vague memory now though, and when she stepped foot outside of the car, she couldn't recognize anything.

Mr. Cox stood beside her as he studied the place, a funny looking garage with what seemed like a private house by the entrance, joined by his college Mrs. Greg who had made the drive with them. It couldn't have been earlier than two or three in the morning, the ride had been long and they hadn't bothered to stop to rest, the two workers switching places to drive, but the place was still packed with people, and loud too. Hannah brought her mom's ashes closer to her chest as she swallowed, feeling like a doe in headlights, afraid, petrified, unable to do anything but to stand there and wait.

Finally the door to the rather big house opened, and Hannah swore she could see her father walk towards her with arms stretched out on each side, waiting to finally hold her in his arms.

"Hanna," her uncle sighed, making the final steps towards her before she was engulfed into a warm and comforting hug, her little box pressed up between him and her. "Look at ya."

He cupped her face between his hard skinned hands and smiled softly, his eyes studying her up and down in surprise. "Ye look beautiful."

Hannah let a tear fall down her cheek as she studied him back, finding in his eyes the same warmth and love she'd seen eight years prior, when she was still a child and he was still family. Her uncle Chibs erased the tear with a finger, and she could swear he had to wipe one of his own, but she didn't say anything. She'd missed him, she realized, and even though she was far from where she wanted to be, she was glad he was there.

Chibs brought her into another hug and kissed her forehead softly, a gesture only another man had even done to her, a man she caught herself seeing every time her eyes landed back on her uncle.

"Welcome to Charming, love."

**Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this, I'm working very hard on this story so I do hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think by reviewing, I'd greatly appreciate it. The first chapters will mostly be fillers to ease you into the story and understand the characters better, but I still hope it's good. Note that this is taking place a little more than five years before season one, so before Opie even goes to prison. Anyway, thanks for reading :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize about the Sons of Anarchy, only my OC.**


	2. Sorry kid

_Chapter 1: Sorry kid_

Hannah had only needed ten seconds standing in front of her uncle to know she never wanted to leave his side again. The way he looked at her with a mix of amazement and pride, a happy glitter of hope in his eyes when she smiled at him, was enough. She could feel her throat tighten as a load of feelings rushed through her, and she turned her head away to hide another fall of tears.

"Thank you," she said, her words directed at Mr. Cox who had been watching the exchange from afar, his lips threatening to form into a smile, but he hadn't allowed himself yet. When she spoke to him though, he did, and only waved the matter away.

"I'll be back in the morning with the papers, there are still a few things left to clear out," he explained, talking to Chibs. The biker walked towards the social worker and extended a hand to him, to which the blond man replied by shaking it warmly.

"Thank you," Chibs told him as well, and Mr. Cox only nodded. The two men broke apart as Cox walked back to that car with his colleague, leaving Hannah in the hands of the tiny bit of family she had left. "Come on, love, let's go say hello."

Chibs grabbed her suitcase that had been left next to the car and walked back to her, placing a careful hand behind her back as he guided her towards the entrance of the clubhouse. Hannah followed slowly, her eyes scanning her surroundings as fast as they could, saving every detail rapidly through her brain as they passed the wooded door and ended inside a fully packed bar. Every head turned towards them as they did, and Hannah felt her legs weaken at the sight in front of her.

She didn't remember it to be that way. Then again, she had been a kid back then, and would have been to bed by that time. Still, she felt herself gasp in surprise at the dozen of bikers from different ages stood in front of her, beer or half-clothed woman in hand. She didn't know what or who to focus on and instead just turned to her uncle who extended his arms in each side of his body as if he was getting ready to receive a hug, but instead just gesture in her direction with a broad smile.

"Everyone, this is Hannah," he introduced, and the young girl smiled, less at the crowd than at her uncle's thick Scottish accent that she had missed.

Shouts of welcome erupted from the bikers as some of them she could barely remember walked to her, embracing her in warm hugs or simply slapping her shoulder softly, or ruffling her hair like she was still nine years old. She recognized a man named Clay, his imposing stature as he walked showing confidence and earned respect. She remembered him being the leader, and even if she hadn't she could have told by the way the room moved according to him. Behind him stood his sergeant-at-arms, a blue eyed man with curly dark hair whose name had slipped her mind, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Sorry about your mother, kid," he told her, giving her a quick hug, to which Hannah answered before nodding.

"Thanks."

The man gave her a small smile before stepping away, leaving someone she definitely remembered take his place.

"Hey Hannah," Jax Teller began, his soothing voice bringing a smile to her lips. He didn't look like the teenager he was the last time she saw him, when he had chased her around the Teller-Morrow garage parking lot for ten minutes because she had made the mistake of mocking his hair. It was shorter now than it had been, almost raw on his head, and he was taller, his shoulders were larger, and his eyes were darker, but his cocky grin remained the same.

"Hi Jax," she said, and didn't have time to add anything before she was stuck between his strong arms, a tight hug keeping her firmly in place as she let herself fall on him. She hadn't realised how tired she actually was. The drive down had been long, and she hadn't been able to sleep through it like she wanted.

Her legs solidified themselves rapidly before Jax let go of her so she wouldn't fall down, but she could tell by the way he looked at her that he had felt her entire body weight on him during their embrace.

"It's nice to see you again," he said, compassionate eyes scanning her face as his hand lingered on her cheek. "I'm sorry 'bout what happened."

"I know. Thank you."

Jax gave her one last sorry smile before walking away, leaving her in front of another familiar face. The tall man gave her a lop-sided smile, taking two final steps towards her before giving her a hug as well, and Hannah felt like her ribs would break if she held on any tighter to the monster of a man who patted her back gently. He finally stepped away, looking down at the teenager who had to lean her head backwards to stare back up at him.

"You're so big," he told her, and Hannah raised an eyebrow before scanning his height and going back to his wide eyes.

"Sure," she shrugged, and Opie chuckled before patting her shoulder, the strength almost making her fall to the side.

"Still a kid, though," he added. Hannah rolled her eyes but didn't add anything, knowing well that to all the men in the clubhouse, she was in fact a child. It didn't matter that eight years had passed, that her guidance counselor had referred to her as 'very mature for her age' the last time her mom had made it to their meeting, and that she was taller than all her high school friends. She would always be a kid to them.

Hannah was the nine years old who Jax Teller had chased around the garage parking lot for ten minutes before holding her by her ankles and shaking her around while laughing, before Opie Winston had helped the poor girl down and told Jax he was a moron. She was that girl.

"You're... bigger," Hannah commented, and Opie looked down at himself quickly before going back to her with a shrug.

"A bit."

Hannah smiled and he did the same, a short silence following as he cleared his throat and went back to his normal demeanor.

"You doin' okay?"

"Yeah," Hannah lied, shrugging as well, her eyes looking down at his feet. She felt his stare burning holes through her head and looked back at him, meeting a serious face who couldn't be fooled that easily. "I'll be fine," she assured him, and Opie nodded.

"Alright."

Hannah held a brave face as he scanned her features for any hints of how she truly felt, but could only find a very tired girl who needed a good rest. Chibs, who had been talking with his brothers while he let her say hi to everyone, walked back towards them, as if he'd been thinking the same as the tall man.

"We should get ye settled," he told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Hannah turned to him and nodded, letting go of a yawn that confirmed their assumptions. "Ye can meet all the other basterds tomorrow, yeah?"

"Alright."

Hannah heard Opie chuckle and looked at him one last time, waving him goodbye as he nodded in her direction. She followed her uncle down the hall, turning a corner where a shiny blue motorcycle was exposed, and Hannah's eyes fixated on it for as long as she could, like in a trance, only following her uncle by the sound of his boots on the hard floor. They passed by dozens of doors until finally Chibs stopped by one, and slowly unlocked it, letting her in before he stepped in after her and closed the door behind them.

Hannah studied the room for a brief moment, taking in the small coziness of it all, the dark colors on the walls and the clean furniture. Everything was well placed and clean, and from the anxious look on her uncle Chibs' face, she could tell it wasn't always that way.

"This is only temporary; ye can come live at my house later, tomorrow if ye want. For tonight I thought it'd be better."

Hannah stood in the middle of the room, her hands still firmly tightened around her mother's ashes. She found it weird that no one had asked her about it, but then again, she figured people had thought it was too weird to ask.

"It's perfect," she told him. With careful hands, she placed the small box on her dresser, looking at it for a moment before turning back to her uncle. "Thank you for taking me in."

Chibs stared at her for a second, his chest tightening at the thought of his niece, his brother's only daughter, left alone with no one to take care of her. He could barely recognize her now that she had grown into a tall, beautiful woman, so much like her mother that he had almost done a double take when he had seen her earlier. She had her mother's face, a strong structure but gentle, with heart shaped lips and a straight nose that gave her a common, yet very recognizable look. Her dark blond hair laid on her shoulders in uneven waves, a mess of knots she would have to deal with later. And her eyes, his brother's eyes. His eyes. Dark, hard, and sad.

"No problem."

Chibs took a deep breath, also looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. The only reason he ever took a girl in this place was to sleep with her, and even then he never bothered to clean it. It had been surprisingly hard to do so, and not because he couldn't do it right or because he didn't want to, but because the act itself had made him think about things he had tried to forget, and brought him to a very dark place. He thanked God Gemma had been there to help him, or he didn't think he could have gone through with it.

He didn't think he would have been able to convince himself to take care of his brother's daughter while his own was miles and miles away, in another country, another continent, living another life he had no part in.

But Hannah was here now, standing there in his room with nothing but him, little Filip Telford, to take care of her. The thought was enough to make him dizzy, a sick feeling growing in his stomach as he stared at an entire human being who depended completely on him. He hadn't had that burden in years, and he didn't know if he was still ready for it, even if his daughter had been much younger and needed a lot more attention than Hannah ever would.

"I hope it's alright," he finally said, waving at the small room as the young girl sat silently on the bed.

"I told you, it's perfect," she repeated, and Chibs sighed in relief.

"Good."

Hannah flashed him a warm smile, the first real one she had let out ever since her mother had passed away. Her uncle Chibs was the same man she had left behind eight years ago, and he still cared about her just as much, she could see it. Spending the first years of her life in Ireland, she had been raised by him just as much as her father, and had acted towards baby Kerrianne like an older sister would have. At least, that's what she had been told, having moved to the United States at the early age of four years old alongside her father, her mother and her uncle who had to leave his family behind. Chibs had been patched over to the Sons right away, while his brother, who was leaving his homeland to get away from the same danger Chibs did, but also the outlaw life altogether, established himself in Seattle with his wife and daughter.

Even with the distance between them, Peter Telford insisted on visiting his brother every summer, staying there weeks at a time to enjoy the California weather and get an old feel of what the outlaw life was like. That is, before he went to prison.

"I'll let ye rest, then," Chibs announced finally, and Hannah nodded in understanding. She couldn't wait to let herself fall on the bed and into a well deserved sleep, but not before she did one last thing.

"Uncle Chibs?"

"Aye?"

Her uncle had barely opened the door before Hannah had walked back to him and almost jumped in his arms, holding him as close to her as she could manage. Chibs returned the hug, shutting his eyes closed and he felt her body tighten and shake, knowing she was crying.

"It'll be alright, love. You're a tough kid, ye'll be fine."

He kept on holding her as she let herself sob into him, an overdue display of emotions she just couldn't bare to hold in anymore. He shushed her while caressing her hair softly, glad that they were just the two of them, away from unwanted stares. He knew Hannah wasn't used to it, but being vulnerable like this wasn't common in the world he lived in. She was but a child, though, who had just lost her mother and moved miles away from her home. No one would blame her for that.

"I'm sorry," she said in between sobs, trying to catch her breath.

"What for?"

Hannah let out another sob as she clung onto him, shaking her head at the floor.

"I'm a mess," she started, roughly erasing tears off her cheeks, trying to compose herself but failing miserably. "Look, I know you didn't plan this and you probably don't want to have to deal with a crying teenager like me, but I promise, as soon as I turn eighteen, I'll be out of your hair, I promise-"

"Hey hey hey," he shushed her mid-sentence, grabbing her face to force her to look at him. "Listen. Ye stop this right now. If I didn't want to take care of ye, I wouldn't have agreed to take you in," he said, finding himself getting angry at her words. Hannah stared at him through her tears and nodded, swallowing with difficulty. "Ye're my niece, Hannah, my family. My blood. That fucking matters to me, alright?"

"Alright," she repeated, and Chibs nodded in approval.

"Don't ever say shit like that again, aye?"

"Okay."

Chibs straightened himself as Hannah sniffed, washing away more tears off of her cheeks after succeeding in stopping herself from crying. The biker watched her carefully, still angry, but also annoyed at himself, feeling like he'd been a little hard on her.

"Go to sleep, alright? Ye look like hell," he told her, and Hannah couldn't help but laugh and shake her head.

"Thanks."

Chibs chuckled, realising what he said and shrugging. "Ye know what I mean."

Hannah walked towards the bed but stopped as she reached it, turning to her uncle who was still standing in the doorway quietly.

"I know it's silly but... will you stay with me?"

Chibs hesitated, watching her pleading eyes before turning to the door and closing it softly, also walking towards the bed with a defeated smile.

"Course."

Hannah's shoulder fell in relief as she crawled into bed, fully clothed, quickly taking her shoes off before bringing the covers on herself. Chibs sat at the foot of the bed, his body turned enough for him to look at her rest her head on the pillow and stare at him.

"I don't want to be alone," she felt the need to explained, and Chibs only patted her leg over the cover.

"I know."

"I've been alone a lot."

Chibs sighed, watching as her eyes closed softly, the young girl not having enough energy to keep them open any longer.

"I know."

Chibs walked back towards the bar after watching Hannah fall asleep, feeling heavy and exhausted himself. He had been so happy to see her arrive, but as soon as she did, the whole sadness of it all had stuck him right in the chest. She wasn't the little girl she used to be, he knew that now, but she was lost instead. She was lost and she needed someone to lean on, and that had to be him.

"How's she doing?" Chibs sat on a bar stool next to his brother, the old man looking at him with anxiety as a cigarette hung from his lips.

"She's dealing with it," he only answered, and Piney nodded slowly, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Tough kid."

"Aye."

Piney clapped the younger man on his shoulder and Chibs thanked the biker with a knowing look, grabbing a beer from the counter of the bar. Opie and Jax made their way to them slowly, talking as they did, standing in front of them with concerned expressions.

"Doc said you should cut back on those," Opie noted, gesturing at his father and the half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. Piney gave him a hard stare and took a long drag of it, sighing slowly.

"Fuck what the Doc said."

Opie chuckled, lighting himself a cigarette as well, sharing a look with Jax who smiled, holding in a laugh.

"Just looking out for you, Pops," Opie shrugged, and his father only rolled his eyes.

"You sound like your damn mother," he grumbled, sliding himself off the stool and walking away, leaving the two friends laughing. Chibs looked at them, going from one to the other before shaking his head.

"Hey Jax," he finally said, catching his attention, but also his friend's, which had also been his intention. "Hannah likes ye, huh?"

Jax glanced at Opie while the other did the same, not sure where the Scotsman was going with this. "She likes Ope."

Jax let out his famous cocky grin as Opie rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his friend as Chibs raised an eyebrow.

"Nah," the tallest of them said, shrugging it off.

"Right," Chibs finally said, pointing at him. "She liked ye a lot the last time, I remember now," he confirmed, and Opie cringed at the thought.

The last time Hannah had been in Charming was the time Jax had chased her around and humiliated her in front of the entire club, and Opie helping her had been like her hero rescuing her from the bad guy. He hadn't realised it when he had stepped in, but the looks she had given him afterwards and the way she'd followed him around after that could only mean one thing: she had a crush on him.

Of course she's only been a kid and it didn't mean much, but clearly his oldest friend and her uncle hadn't forgotten it.

"She's still a kid," he reminded them, afraid they were insinuating anything inappropriate. "And I'm married."

"Jesus, Ope, who the hell do ye think I am?" Chibs exclaimed, his eyes widened at the younger man. "I only meant that if she likes ye, she'll be more open t'ye, ye know. I just want ye to look out for her."

"Right," Opie nodded, and Chibs gave him a hard stare as Jax chuckled at his friend. "Oh shut up."

"Ye think you can do that?" Chibs asked again, and Opie nodded, growing serious, as Jax did.

"We'll look out for her, no problem," Jax confirmed, and Chibs seemed satisfied.

"Good."

Chibs stood up from the stool and gave both their shoulders a squeeze before walking away, leaving the two friends space to sit at the bar where Piney and he had been. Opie finished his cigarette in silence as Jax drowned his beer in a heartbeat, turning to his friend.

He opened his mouth for a second to speak but was immediately stopped by Opie's hard stare.

"Don't you fucking start," the tall man spoke hardly, but couldn't keep a straight face as his best friend's unsaid phrase turned into uncontrolled laughter.

**Holy crap you guys I've never had so many people subscribe and favourite my story for a simple prologue, this is amazing! I hope I'm not going to disappoint any of you! Anyway, this is chapter one, I hope you liked it, review if you'd like, it's always a pleasure :) thank you to everyone to reviewed for the last chapter and/or followed and put it in your favourites, it's means a lot to me !**

**Special thanks to Sparroe51 for your helpful comments :D I'll try to update as soon as I can.**


	3. Fragile

_Chapter 2: Fragile_

Three weeks had passed since Hannah had arrived in Charming, and her settling hadn't been easy. Moving in her uncle Chibs' house had only taken an hour, but the whole mental preparation of having to live so far away from home with her uncle and his biker friends was a whole other thing. Chibs was extra careful with her, clearly confused as to how to deal with a grieving teenager he hadn't seen in so long.

It hadn't helped that the girl had been extremely quiet, like she used to be as a kid, and never voiced what was on her mind. After falling asleep in his dorm room at the clubhouse, Hannah had woken up to be a closed shell of a person, looking around with wide eyes, her lips shut as if they were held together with glue. She answered his questions with very few words, though she never stopped being polite and helpful. She said 'thank you' every time anyone ever did or gave her anything and apologized for the simplest things, even the ones she wasn't responsible for. The young girl had also become a real cleaning lady around the house, spending her first days in California taking care of the mess in her uncle's small house, cooking and cleaning the dishes behind him. Granted, he rarely came over there before and most of the mess was caused by him being around more and her staying in everyday, but she had shown to be a real helper.

Hannah was thankful for the way her uncle had been with her, never bossy or out of place, acting from afar without trying to put his nose in her stuff. She knew he wanted to, it showed the way he studied every single thing she did in his presence, and all the questions he'd be asking about her life in Seattle, her mother, her father, school. She had been transferred to the local school after moving there, finishing her 11th grade by starting the semester after Christmas vacations. She had been there for two weeks now and was having a hard time fitting in, studying amongst kids who had known each other ever since they started talking. Hannah had never been really good at making friends; people always said she seemed cold from afar, unfriendly and possibly mean. The young girl was well aware of that, unconsciously always showing an expressionless face, staring at people without being able to talk to them. Yet she was friendly, and not even a little bit of a cold person, but her features made her look that way, something she had never been able to fix.

Her alarm clock woke her up instantly, like she had already been half-awake seconds before the noise. Her hands crashed on the grey object rapidly, her head not being able to deal with such high pitched sounds this early in the morning. The teenager sat up in her bed, a hand rubbing at her tired eyes as she looked around, confused for a moment at her surroundings. She hadn't gotten used to waking up in her uncle's house yet, and every morning was another moment of panic before having to remind herself where she was and why.

Her bare feet collided with the ground as she pushed herself up, walking around her new room with only a pair of women boxers and an oversized t-shirt, glancing at her head in the mirror, her face turning into a frown. A horrible case of bed-hair glanced back at her, and she darted her eyes away, shaking her head. Her stare landed on a small wooden box on her dresser, and Hannah walked to it with calm steps, like she did every morning. Cold fingers lingered on the engraved letters marking her mother's ashes, and she smiled to herself, pushing the box away. The letter was still perfectly folded under it; the envelope still sealed shut like it had never been read.

Hannah knew it had though, by social services, Mr. Cox and all the rest of them who'd been helping her during the couple days before she moved to live with her uncle. They had given it back to her in the hopes that her mother's last words would bring some comfort to the grieving child, but Hannah hadn't been able to bring herself to open it, and a part of her wished she wouldn't at all. Like she'd be able to pretend that her mother was still somewhere safe in Seattle, just waiting for her to come back, and she wasn't really dead.

Hannah placed the envelope back under the wooden box and convinced herself to get ready, not wanting to be late for her first class after only two weeks at her new school. She dreaded going though, knowing she'd have to face all these unfamiliar faces and act as if she wasn't bothered when no one would sit with her at lunch. She didn't even know if people were aware of why she had moved in the middle of the school year, what had happened to her family, who she was with now. They probably didn't, the way they looked at her like she was from another planet, just plain weird with nothing to explain it.

She passed by her uncle's room and noticed the unmade bed, but the absence of Chibs in it. He must already be at the clubhouse, she thought, knowing that the life his uncle led was busy and required him being ready to go anywhere at any time. She didn't blame him though, she had gotten used to it as a kid in Ireland as well as in Seattle when her father, going against his previous resolutions, had gone right back to outlaw life.

The teenager grabbed the house phone nonetheless; dialing the number her uncle had insisted she learn by heart quickly before bringing it to her ear. Two rings were necessary before she heard Chibs' voice.

"Hannah?"

"Hi. I just wanted to check on you," she explained simply, knowing to keep the conversation short while he was dealing with club business. She heard Chibs chuckle on the other end and couldn't help but smile to herself.

"Sorry I left so early, love, I had to deal with stuff," he replied, and Hannah nodded even though he couldn't see her.

"I figured. I'm going to school now, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said, and heard some muffled voices from the other end before her uncle cleared his throat.

"Ye don't have to worry about me, I'm alright," he said; lower this time, trying to keep the conversation to himself. Hannah could hear the hesitation in his voice and passed a nervous hand through her hair. She knew he probably wasn't used to having someone worry about him not being there in the morning and having to keep tabs with someone, but she hadn't been able to help herself. "_Ye_ doing okay?" he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, and she knew the conversation was over after that.

"Alright, good. I'll see ye later, yeah? Gotta go."

"Later."

Hannah hung up the phone and walked back to her room, finally getting herself ready for school.

Chibs snapped his personal phone off and turned back to his brothers. He normally used the pre-paid ones when he was with the club, but had insisted that Hannah call him on his personal so he would always know it was her. Three weeks had been enough to turn Chibs into an over-protective and paranoid uncle, and he couldn't work straight if he knew Hannah didn't have a way to reach him at all times.

"Alright, I'm here," Chibs announced, walking back to his brothers in the park parking lot, sniffing the fresh air of Oakland.

"Now listen, this shit could get ugly," Clay started once the Scotsman was back in the circle with the rest of his men. "Laroy ain't gonna be very pleased that his shipment was light."

Clay took a glance at his V.P. who only shook his head, still aggravated from the latest Irish cargo. Apparently some shit had gone down in Belfast and the shipment had to be cut in half, no matter what Clay or any other SAMCRO affiliate could do about it. The matter had the club walking on eggshells as they were supposed to deliver the guns in the next week and only half of them were available for sell.

"We've been dealing with the Niners for years, ain't no way Laroy is gonna turn on us," the Sgt.-at-arms declared, his body dancing from one leg to the other as his hands laid on his hips.

"Yeah, we deal with them. Doesn't mean we trust them," Jax spat back, trying to keep his voice low enough not to attract unwanted attention. They were already getting stares from just standing around in the parking lot next to their bikes, their cut and patches easily recognizable, even in Oakland.

"Let me handle this," was Clay's final word to his crew before he walked away, followed closely by Bobby and Tig, leaving the rest of the guys behind.

Jax shot a look at Opie to which he replied with a shrug, and Chibs stood aside, his butt resting on his bike as he lit himself a cigarette. Past him sat Kozik and Happy, two nomads from Tacoma who had been called to help after the news with the shipment. And further, another member called Kyle, who was pacing with a phone on his ear, a cocky grin spread on his face. Whoever he was talking to must have been saying some sweet words to him because the man could not stop smiling as he let the person go on. The action brought him back to his earlier conversation with Hannah and he glanced at his phone, checking if he'd missed a call or a text message.

"Who was that earlier?"

Chibs' head rose up at the V.P.'s question and he placed his phone back in his pocket. "Hannah."

"Oh."

Jax and Opie lit themselves a cigarette as well in a similar movement, the two friends still watching the Scotsman with interest, as if waiting for him to say more.

"She worries."

Jax's smirk nearly made his cigarette fall as his friend scoffed, staring at the ground and kicking at some rocks. The big man obviously had something on his mind but tried not to let it show as Jax answered his brother.

"She's a good kid," he said, taking a drag of his cigarette as Chibs nodded, letting a smile linger on his face before going back to a serious expression.

"That she is. Too good," Chibs mumbled, almost talking to himself, but he knew that both men had heard him. Jax furrowed his eyebrows as Opie only watched, and he felt obligated to continue. "She's not made for this. The life, the dealings, the guns. She's too fragile."

Jax pondered at the thoughts the Scotsman finally spoke after spending the last three weeks turning them over in his head. If Hannah worried about him, it was nothing compared to the way he did about her. It was easy to see the young girl was at loss when it came to the club. She was well aware of what they were but didn't seem to realise what it implied, and how much there was nothing for her in it. Chibs couldn't stop himself from imagining all the horrible scenarios that could happen to her. Not only could she be hurt physically, but the club itself could turn someone in a very bad version of themselves, and he knew that very well.

"If she's anything like you, she'll be fine," Opie stepped in, giving a smile to the man in front of him.

Chibs stared at the tall man and let his shoulders fall a couple inches as he sighed, getting up from his bike to stand face to face with the two men.

"She's not. She's just like her Da," he said, meeting Jax's eyes, giving him a knowing look. "And we know what happened there."

"Hannah's not her father," the blond stated, letting his cigarette fall to the ground and destroying it with his boot. "And neither are you."

Chibs took a second to stare at his V.P. before nodding his head, thanking the two friends with a look as their conversation was interrupted by Clay and the others walking back towards the parking lot.

"How'd it go?" Jax asked, and Clay only shared a look with him before Bobby followed with a shrug and answered for him.

"Bought us some time," he said, grabbing his helmet off his bike to put in on.

Jax also nodded as an answer and went back to his own bike, followed by Opie and Chibs. Glancing back at the park, the Scot met the eyes of a very angry Laroy, followed by five menacing members of his gang as they walked back to their SUVs.

"Doesn't look too happy," he commented, nodding at the black man disappearing from their view.

"As long as he's happy enough not to come a-knocking at my door during the night, we're good," Clay spat back, making his Harley roar, stating he was ready to leave.

"If these black dicks wanna start shit with me, let them come. I ain't scared of them," Tig mumbled, his fingers fighting with his helmet to place it properly on his head.

"If that's how you like it, Tiggy," Bobby commented, making the crew erupt in a fit of manly laughter.

"Very funny," the Sgt.-at-arms mocked before starting the engine of his motorcycle and driving away, followed by the rest of his brothers.

Hannah gripped the blue plastic tray with shaking fingers, already afraid of stepping foot inside the table's area of the cafeteria to find herself a place. It was always a nightmare to find a table empty enough for her to take a seat without feeling like she was interrupting people for enjoying a lunch with their friends. The whole thing made her uneasy, and she found herself missing her old school, where not only did she have friends to sit with, but also the possibility of going to eat outside on smaller tables where she wouldn't be given weird looks for being by herself.

The young girl finally found an empty table and set her tray on it, facing her simple lunch consisting of only a sandwich, vegetables and a juice box. She didn't have a big appetite.

"What's wrong, nerdy, did you lose your glasses?"

"Give them back!"

Hannah's eyes darted to the commotion not far ahead of her, where two tall boys wearing sports jackets surrounded a younger girl, one of them with his arms above his head like he was keeping something out of her reach. The girl's eyes were half-closed, having a hard time seeing without the glasses the boy had just stolen from her, while the other one laughed.

"Or what?"

"Or... I'll go to the principal's office and tell on you!" the girl said, her red hair dancing behind her head as she spoke firmly. Hannah felt herself frown at the other's comment, knowing it wasn't the best move to pull.

"How you gonna get there if you can't see?" one of the boys laughed, and the other high fived him as he kept his arm very high above his head.

"It's not funny!" the girl yelled, but her screams were vain and no one seemed to be listening but Hannah, watching with wide eyes and feeling a little helpless.

Finally, another tall boy stood from a table further in the cafeteria, too far her Hannah to see until he was standing next to the two bullies and staring at them with annoyance.

"That's enough you guys," he warned, his voice calm but tinted with anger. He was pretty built, but not as much as the two jocks who seemed surprised to be stopped in the middle of their fun.

"Fuck off Brendan," the one holding the glasses said.

"Give her back her glasses, Turk," the other continued, ignoring his previous comment. The boy glanced at his friend and the ladder shrugged, also not knowing how to react. Apparently they hadn't expected to be interrupted.

"Or what?" the guy repeated.

"Shut the fuck up and give them back, Jesus," Brendan said, and finally the bully let his arm fall long enough for the red headed girl to grab her glasses from his hand. Turk shook his head, nodding at his friend as he walked away, connecting his shoulder to Brendan's with force as he did so. The boy didn't even flinch and instead watched them leave before turning back to the girl.

"You alright?" he asked her.

"Yeah. Thanks Brendan."

"No problem."

He gave her a smile and patted her shoulder, leaving her to go back to his table as she looked around, clinging to her lunch box nervously. Their eyes met as Hannah hadn't been able to stop herself from staring at the exchange and the red head swallowed, noticing her table was possibly the only empty one left in the room. She carefully walked in her direction, sitting herself in a chair on her right on the other side of the table.

Hannah kept looking at her but the other looked down, staring at her food, and she heard her sniff, blinking her eyes rapidly to get rid of the tears. Her fingers erased them from her cheeks in a heartbeat, making sure no one would see it but knowing the strange new girl probably did.

"It's rude to stare you know," she finally said, raising her head back to look at the blond girl.

Hannah blushed and snapped out of her trance, realising she'd in fact been staring but being too deep in her thoughts to stop.

"Sorry," she mumbled, going back to her sandwich as did the red head. Their eyes met only seconds later though, and then went away, the two girls still stealing glances at each other without being able admit to it.

"You're new," the red headed girl finally stated, and Hannah only nodded. "You're in my history class."

Hannah's eyebrows furrowed together as she studied the girl, not remembering her from any of her classes, but nodded anyway, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Mrs. Peterson, second period on Mondays," she added to confirm her previous comment.

"Right." Hannah stayed silent for a moment, taking another bite from her sandwich before putting it back down. "That happen often?"

She pointed at where the commotion was held only minutes ago, and the other girl didn't need to follow her finger to know what she meant. "Sometimes."

"Boys are jerks," Hannah commented, wanting to show some support to the recently bullied girl. She could only imagine how much it sucked to be pushed around like this all the time.

"Not all of them."

This time, the red head turned around to steal a glance at Brendan, the brown haired boy who had rescued her from the bullies. Hannah smiled to herself, knowing exactly what it felt like.

"That's true."

The other girl turned back to her and blushed, well aware of how obvious she was being. She nervously played with her lunch box's zipper, trying to shake the feeling away as Hannah watched.

"So why'd you move?" she said, trying to deflect the attention away from her red cheeks.

"My mom died."

The girl's eyes fell right back on her in a second, a surprised expression forming on her features.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, feeling stupid for even asking. Hannah brushed it away.

"It's okay."

"What about your dad?" the other girl continued, her curiosity clearly winning over her sense of control.

"He's dead too."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," the girl repeated, getting even redder than she had been earlier. Hannah gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's okay."

An awkward silence fell between the two teenagers as they went back to their lunch, Hannah feeling silly for spooking the only person who'd dared speak to her ever since she got here, and the other feeling silly for asking so many personal questions to the only girl who was actually nice to her.

"I'm Allison."

Hannah looked back at the other girl and smiled, the weight of the world finally lifting itself off of her shoulders.

"Hannah."

Back at the clubhouse, the crew was in full motion. They had been seeing a lot more of Darby's guys lately, so many that it was getting clear the man had decided to enlarge his crew, leaving Charming with a lot more Nordics Nazis than they were used to deal with. It was no secret that the Sons had no intention of letting anyone cook meth in their territory, and it was only a matter of time before it happened with the new muscle Darby had hired.

Clay had called in a meeting to discuss the matter, his gang sitting around the reaper table, waiting to deal with it.

"You sure it's Darby?" Tig asked his leader, a cigarette hanging from his fingers. Clay shot him a glance before looking at Jax on his left.

"Could be the brotherhood," Chibs said, also smoking a last drag out of his cigarette. Bobby scoffed in front of him.

"All the same Nazi shit," he spat, shaking his head in disgust.

"We'll need to look into it. If the brotherhood's involved, it's got to be some serious business," Clay explained, also taking a drag out of his own cigar, waving the matter into someone else's hands.

The Aryan Brotherhood operated mostly in prison, but everyone knew that they often provided the Nords with muscle when they needed it, and if it was the case, it meant Darby's gang was getting ready for something they would need defense for.

"We need to look into these new guys, see who they're involved with," Jax added, and his brothers agreed.

"Talk to Unser, see if you can get anything from the records," Clay told Jax, and the blond nodded as an answer. "Kyle, you think you can use the computer to get info on them? Names, perhaps."

Kyle, who seemed to have been lost in his own thoughts, looked at his leader in awe before nodding.

"Uh, yeah, sure, no problem Clay," he said rapidly, and Piney shook his head from his place at the end of the table.

"Alright. Meetin' closed."

Clay let his hammer fall down and hit it once, stating church was adjourned. The men all stood up to exit the room one by one, leaving Jax and his step-father alone in the room.

"What?" Clay asked, well aware of his step-son's stare on him.

"I don't like that guy," he said, and Clay looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Kyle. He's not cut for this," Jax explained. Clay sighed but let him continue. "I agreed to let him get patched because you said he could be useful, but ever since he's been here he can't do one damn thing right."

Clay took a long drag of his cigar, letting the room be silent for a moment before he began to answer his wife's son. He couldn't believe how much of her he saw in him.

"I'm telling you Clay, there's something off about that guy."

"I don't see it."

It was Jax's turn to sigh and shake his head, finally getting himself on his feet before walking around the table, quickly followed by Clay. The two men made it out of the room in time to see Kyle grab a lap top computer and throw it on the floor, letting go of a frustrated scream. The room still packed with the biker men fell silent as everyone stared at the latest patched member of the group, their eyes wide as can be, their jaws slowly falling on the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with ye?!" Chibs exclaimed, staring at a panting Kyle who seemed just as surprised at what he had just done.

"It was fucking with me, man," he explained, but no one seemed to react. "I suck with this shit," he continued.

Jax shook his head again as he turned to his step-father, the grey haired man meeting his eyes in a defeated look.

"Okay, I see it."

Jax couldn't help but smile at him, a part of him somewhat amused at the situation.

"Find me someone who can work a computer."

**I hope you all enjoyed it, leave a review if you did!**

**I really want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed this story. You guys are amazing! Thank you!**


	4. Outsider Idiot

_Chapter 3: Outsider Idiot_

Hannah had her books firmly pressed to her chest as she made her way inside the clubhouse. They weren't particularly heavy but she held them with such force they might as well have been bricks. It had become a usual pattern of hers now, going to the motorcycle club hang out after school to work on her homework and wait to hear from her uncle. She'd learned fast that even if she was able to reach him every hour of the day, she never really knew where he was or what he was doing, and the thought of him putting himself in dangerous situations had her worrying. Plus, at the clubhouse, she was always sure to find someone while always being able to work quietly in her uncle's dorm room, unbothered but still in the loop of things.

They clubhouse was empty except for Jax and Bobby, the two men clearly waiting for something, in between actions. Their eyes met her lean figure as she kept on walking, used to sharing the place with different SAMCRO members. It was their place, after all, and she was only a new addition to the various ties of the group. They were home, and she was just passing.

"Hi Jax, hi Bobby," she greeted them, her backpack bouncing on her lower back as her steps quickened towards the corridor. Even though she much preferred being here than alone confined in her uncle's house, she was very careful not to intrude or disturb whatever was going on with the club, and learned to stay away unless she was directly asked to stay.

"Hi Hannah," the two men responded in unison as she reached the hallway, her body disappearing behind the wall, her ponytail waving at them as she strode away.

Bobby let out a short snort as he went back to his drink, obviously finding the girl rather odd, and wasn't the only one. Jax shot him a look and went back to where Hannah had been, a smile tugging at his lips. She was weird, that was true, but he liked that about her. She was nothing like any girl he'd ever seen hanging around the club, and not only because she dressed in a reserved fashion and didn't throw herself at the first sight of a leather jacket, but she was so damn... quiet. She was clumsy, easily embarrassed, always stumbling over words when she succeeded in getting them out. She had nothing to envy, yet she seemed completely unbothered at the strength and hard attitude that characterized people around her, like she didn't envy anyone else either. Odd.

"Jesus Christ," Bobby sighed, and Jax's attention went back to the older man.

"Calm down, he's not even late yet."

The bearded man watched as the Vice President sat himself next to him on one of the couches, letting his head rest on the back of it. He was tired from lack of sleep and improper work hours, his eyelids growing heavy as he forced himself to sit upright. Now was not the time for resting.

A knock on the front door brought the two men in a standing position, but they didn't need to move as the newcomer let himself in slowly, his head appearing from behind the wooden door before the rest of his body.

A large goofy grin spread across his face as he caught sight of the two club members, and was welcomed by the same attention from the blond man.

"Juice. Glad you came, man," Jax told him, reaching the Puerto Rican man in a manly hug, the two of them clapping each other's back like old friends. Truth was, they didn't know each other that well, Juice had in fact only moved in Charming a couple months ago, but they had grown into liking each other over too many beers and restless nights.

The V.P. was well aware their meeting was nothing of a coincidence, and Juice's desire to be part of the MC blasted through his eyes every time he glanced at the patch at Jax's chest.

"Shit, of course," Juice answered matter-of-factly, like the thought of not coming at Jax's request hadn't even crossed his mind. He shook Bobby's hand, having met the man once or twice but not enough to call him a friend just yet.

Jax waved towards one of the couches, sitting himself to where he'd been before greeting his guest. Juice obliged, positioning himself in front of the two members, facing them with a serious expression, to which the blond man smiled.

"What' you need, man?" Juice asked after a moment, his eyes going between Bobby and Jax.

"I need a favor."

"Sure, anything."

Jax shared a look with Bobby before going back to Juice's face, clearly having told the Elvis impersonator all about his clear desire to join in.

"I need you to access through the state police system," he said, his head moving with his words, emphasizing how truly important this mission was. The whole time Juice only nodded. "I need names, records history, shit, anything you can get me."

"Yeah, no problem. Piece of cake," the darker man answered, and Jax let a grin appear on his face.

"I also need you to clear off some things in Bobby's record," the blond man added, and it took a little longer for the other one to reply.

"Shit. Why?"

Jax stiffened, clearly having not expected to be asked questions. When someone wanted in they should always do whatever the members told them to do, and they didn't need to know why. If not, they'd never make it through prospecting. Juice seemed to get the vibe, letting his wondering expression fall.

"Look, I just need you to do this as a favor to the club. If you do, I'll let you prospect."

Juice's eyes widened, his heart doing splits in his ribcage as he leaned forward, making sure he'd heard him right. The excitement in his face got both men to smirk.

"Really?!" Juice heard himself ask, but he was somehow too stoked to even realise it.

"Yeah," Jax nodded, and the other man smiled broadly.

"Thanks man. Really."

"Oh don't thank me."

Bobby let out a laugh, knowing full well that what the Puerto Rican man was getting into wasn't the best part of being in the club, for sure. Being a prospect was being the club's bitch, cleaning after everyone and doing the jobs no one wanted to do. Getting bossed around, tending the bar instead of drinking from it, taking care of the Old Ladies. Hell, it sucked, big time. But was came afterwards was the real thing, the pride of being a member of the Sons of Anarchy. Redwood Original. Being part of the club, protecting it, making it your own. Being a family.

"No, really. Thank you," Juice said again softly, and Jax grew serious.

"You sure you want to?" he asked him, and the other didn't hesitate half a second to nod his head.

"Absolutely. This is what I want."

"Good."

Jax let out a sigh and stood up, to which Juice and Bobby followed suit. The blond man presented his hand to the one facing him, and Juice took his hand firmly before being pulled in another hug, the two men clapping each other on the back.

"I'll get started, just gotta get my stuff from my bike," Juice said when they pulled back. Jax nodded and watched him walk away, turning to Bobby with a smirk once the man was gone.

"Really? That idiot?" Bobby asked, shaking his head.

"Can be useful. That guy can work a computer like no one I ever met."

"Still an idiot. A brown outsider idiot," Bobby continued, not entirely satisfied. Jax only shrugged.

"I trust him."

The older man met Jax's eye as they shared a look, Jax having his eyebrow raised high, like he usually did when having a silent argument with someone. _I'm right, _it said_. And I'll prove it. _Bobby shook his head yet again but decided finally to also shrug it off, trusting his V.P. enough to wait until proven wrong.

"Cool Mohawk."

When Hannah let herself out of her uncle's dorm room, it was nearly eight o'clock, and having gotten no news from Chibs, she figured he must have been busy with club business. Again. She's waited long enough, she thought, and her stomach seemed to think so too, growling loudly to let her know how hungry she really was.

When she arrived in the wide area where the bar stood, silence welcomed her, but she knew right away she wasn't alone. Further in the room, propped up on one of the high tables, a man was deeply focused in what was happening in front of him, his rather big laptop computer flashing different shades of color on his darker face. Hannah made no noise to announce herself, and instead stayed still by the hallway, confused as to why a man who wasn't a club member would be left alone in the clubhouse. He wore no cut she could see, and he didn't look like the others did. His face twisted in confusion in a ridiculous way, his eyes scanning the screen as if looking for answers he couldn't find, his tongue curled up on his upper lip from the effort. Contrasting with his muscled body and broad shoulders, his face was somewhat childish, making him seem younger than he really was. He didn't look like someone who would get involved with the club at all, Hannah thought. But she could be wrong.

Either way she wouldn't stick around to find out. Pressing her books yet again to her chest, the young girl made her way towards the door, her eyes focused in front of her, refusing to look at the man. The sound of her steps must have betrayed her presence, though, because she heard him curse beside her, and stopped right away, glancing back at him again. He was looking at her now, a hand on his chest, panting, like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit outta me," he told her as she sensed a slight accent, but couldn't pin from where.

_Sorry,_ she thought, but couldn't say it. She didn't deal well with strangers, especially with men who were as big as him. He wasn't very tall but his shoulders were clearly twice as big as hers, and she didn't need to stand beside him to know that.

After a minute of not talking, the man let out a laugh, revealing his pearly white teeth in a goofy grin to her, and she felt her shoulders relax. He couldn't be all bad if he smiled like that, she told herself, but still made to movement to leave, or to speak either.

"You good?" he asked her, clearly wondering if she'd just frozen there.

Hannah nodded, her tongue curling behind her teeth but her jaw staying firmly shut. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to get her body to function again as she cursed herself. It's wasn't like that never happened. In fact, it happened every time she was amongst people she didn't know or wasn't comfortable with. Going into a complete shutdown wasn't foreign to her, yet, she still hated it just as much every time it happened.

"You sure?" he asked again, and she nodded again, having only that to carry the conversation. "You look like you're scared I'll eat you," he laughed, but she didn't seem amused even a little bit.

Swallowing, that was good; she was able to do that again. Soon she might be able to open her mouth. Maybe. For now she only stared at him, finally getting some sense into her legs as she made a move to walk the remaining steps towards the door.

"I won't!"

Hannah stopped moving again, her stare still fixated on him. She raised an eyebrow, confused, and still wondering why she'd stopped again.

"Eat you, I mean," he explained, but seemed to think he shouldn't have said anything the second after saying it. An awkward silence settled in again, and Hannah couldn't help but laugh a little. Her body was less tensed now, and it felt good to have it vibrate like it did through her chuckling. Juice seemed to ease up on his chair as well, thinking he'd scared the girl so much she was running away from him. "That sounded kinda weird, sorry."

As an answer, Hannah only shrugged. And smiled. Juice's goofy grin appeared on his face again as he let a leg hang low on the stool he was in.

"Not a big talker, are ya?"

Hannah shook her head softly, feeling her cheeks warm up. She could tell where his accent was from now, somewhere around New York. It sounded very rough and strange to her, but she'd her it before, and always thought it had an appealing sound to it.

"That's cool."

Not being a big talker was an understatement, she thought, but she was getting better. Spending time around the club had made her more comfortable in bigger crowds, and she was now able to talk to a few of them, the ones she remembered from when she was a kid. She was okay around Jax and Opie mostly, and could afford a word or two with Tig. She was getting used to Bobby now, too, and she said hello to him when they met. And with her uncle, well, she was actually a normal person.

"I talk too much," he continued, snapping her out of her thoughts. She concentrated on his face, watching him as he repositioned himself on the chair. "I swear, you get me started and I won't stop. Mindless shit, you know? Doesn't make sense. I should learn to do that," he said, pointing at her. "You know, not talk. Like you."

"You wouldn't want that."

Juice stopped himself, clearly surprised of having heard her voice after five minutes of her being completely silent. He smiled at her, expressing he liked it. Her voice was smooth and soft, exactly how she looked.

"Woah."

Hannah's cheeks turned to a bright shade of pink, looking down at her books. She didn't even know how she'd managed to let a word out, let alone four. Plus, his reaction made her nervous.

"Why not?" he finally asked. Clearly he'd been too surprised by her talking to even understand what she had said.

"Because... you seem to like talking."

Her response made him laugh, but he nodded, shrugging. She had a point there, he thought, but didn't continue. There was no need to prove her right and show her another example of how much he couldn't shut up.

"I like when _you_ talk," he commented, a new kind of smirk appearing on his face, the kind that made girls giggle and blush at boys in the hallways at school. Hannah felt a weird sensation in her stomach, one she couldn't remember feeling before, and felt her cheeks warm up yet again.

"Why?" she asked, her heart rate increasing too fast for her liking.

"I like how your lips move."

Instinctively, Sarah pushed her lips together, hiding them away from his view. The action only got him to widen his smirk, completely unbothered by how unfamiliar a situation like this was for her.

"I have to go."

Her fingers curled tighter around her books as she spun on her heels and made a run for the door, a habit she knew well to run away from an uncomfortable situation if she had the chance. She could barely understand how she hadn't done that before, wondering why she had let the dark stranger keep her there for so long. He hadn't said anything of particular interest, and hadn't been someone she liked or wanted to know better, either. He was just there, with his goofy grin and rather handsome face, getting a reaction out of her even though she'd given up on getting comfortable around men a long time ago.

The thoughts clouded her mind as she pushed on the door and let the warm air of charming hit her face. Taking a deep breath, she slowed her pace and took a moment to replay the conversation in her head. That man had been flirting with her, she realised; trying to get her cheeks as red as they had been and make it hard for her to think _on purpose_. A frown appeared on her face and she took her usual way towards her uncle's house, glad that by the time of year, it wasn't completely dark outside yet.

Men only flirted with women they thought were attractive, often with sexual intent and desire. Surely the dark stranger couldn't have felt this way about her, she thought. She was just a teenager, a very plain one at that, with conservative clothing, who didn't dress to impress such men. Men like him. Handsome ones, who could get any girl that they wanted.

The whole thing didn't make sense and she found herself shaking the thoughts away as she made her way further down the street. Boys didn't look at her that way, never had, and she had almost made peace with the fact that they never would. No one had ever told her she was beautiful other than her mom, and sometimes, her uncle Chibs, who would have basically done anything to make her happy. To bring her back to the girl she used to be before eight years had separated them. Nothing, in the way things had been, could have made her feel anything more than a plain looking normal girl. Maybe the stranger simply needed glasses.

Either way, she decided that, for her sake, it was better she didn't run into him again.

The house was obviously empty when Hannah finally got there, and she lingered on the silence for a moment as she stood in the doorway, welcoming the familiarity like an old friend. Her house had always been this silent when she got home back in Seattle, whether her mother had been there or not. Her presence was like one of a ghost, the person she had once been only a memory engraved in her daughter's head. The rest had only been flesh, bones, and tears.

She had probably been there for two minutes when the rumble of a motorcycle filled her ears as well as the entire neighborhood, getting the teenager to turn around and wait for the engine to make its way towards her. As expected, her uncle's Harley appeared in front of her seconds later and Hannah felt her body ease up, only realising now how tensed she had been. Not knowing where her uncle was did that to her, even if the dependence they both had on each other wasn't good for either of them.

"Sorry 'bout the time," Chibs told her once he'd parked his ride and taken his helmet off, reaching her side on the front porch.

"It's okay," she told him in a small voice, shrugging it away. She closed the door behind them as her uncle let go on a long sigh, passing a hand through his short hair.

"No, it's not," he said, his tone harsh, but not at her. "I should'a called ye."

"I would have liked that," Hannah admitted, but she didn't add anything else. Instead, she walked towards her room to put her books down on her desk and drop her school bag on the floor. Her uncle followed her watched as she placed her things, his shoulder keeping him standing and he rested on the door frame.

"Ye went waiting for me at the clubhouse, didn't ye?"

Hannah's eyes met with his face only for a moment before she went back to her bag, taking the remaining books out of it to put them with the others.

"I like doing my homework there," she explained, but Chibs jaw only tightened as he sighed deeply. He seemed to be the only one to blame himself for leaving her alone so much, while she always insisted to tame the guilt building in his chest every time he tried apologizing to her.

"Hannah..." his voice trailed off, and that was enough to stop her from moving around and get her to settle down and look at him clearly. He looked exhausted, his small eyes red and tired, big purple bags hanging underneath them. His face was serious, betraying the helplessness he felt when it came to her. She was a grieving child living miles away from what had once been her home, quiet, lost, caring for him in the way he should be caring for her. He'd tried slowing things down to make room for her, to make her feel welcomed in his home, to support her in her sadness after losing her own mother.

But everything was so complicated and Hannah was left to take care of herself and go to school while worrying for wherever he was and how dangerous the situation could be. His culpability towards it all was one of the main reasons he'd never settled down with a woman ever since stepping foot in America. Having those pleading eyes watch him leave in the morning, wondering if he'd ever come back, was more haunting that anything the club had led him to do.

"I'm sorry."

His tone had been firm and Hannah felt a shiver run through her spine as the truth in his words stuck her. She could tell by his eyes just how much that was true, and the sight of it brought a wave of emotion so strong she had to turn away.

"I know."

Before she could go back to what she had been doing, Chibs had her in his arms, and Hannah had let herself fall on him in the same manner than her first night in Charming after her mother's passing. Those moments rarely happened; in fact, they didn't. Chibs had been very understanding in the past two months, and the way they acted with each other proved the strong bond they shared, but hugs and tears had been avoided as much as possible, mostly on Hannah's side than her uncle's. She had figured that shutting herself away and making the transition easier on him was the way to go, but her uncle didn't seem to feel the same.

"This is harder than I thought it'd be," he mumbled near her forehead, his cheek pressed up on it, and Hannah only smiled. "I wished ye were still a little kid and I could chase ye around the house and tiring ye out in front of a Disney movie to make it all okay."

The last part made her laugh and Hannah broke their embrace to look up at him. This was why she didn't want to make him feel guilty about being so busy and not being able to tell her about much. Chibs loved her in a way only family bonds could let you, through anything, and would literally do anything to make her happy. That was more than enough, and exactly what she needed.

"How about a stupid comedy and some popcorn?" she proposed, and her uncle's face finally turned into a grin.

"We have popcorn?"

"Since I do the groceries, yeah, we do."

Chibs chuckled and shook his head, silently admitting how impressed he was at his seventeen years old niece who did everything around the house he didn't have time to do, while being a full time student and the smartest girl he'd ever met.

"Alright. Comedy it is."

Hannah's face lit up in a heartbeat, supporting the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all, he thought, as she practically ran her way towards to living room. He reached her a couple seconds later, while she had already chosen the movie and was leaving the room to go make popcorn in the kitchen.

"There's a message," she announced from the other room, seeing the flashing red light on the wall phone. "Should I get it?"

"Sure."

Chibs let himself fall down on the couch as Hannah grabbed the phone and composed pressed a button, waiting patiently for the machine to process. They rarely got called here, most of the phone conversations Chibs had were on his pre-pays, so the teenager was curious as to who could be calling them on the land-line. Her question was quickly answered when the machine beeped and the voice of a woman filled Hannah's ears.

"_Hi, I'm Kathy Oliver, I'm calling to follow up on Hannah Telford's condition... She was admitted in our program a little over two years ago and we thought important to make sure she was getting the proper attention considering..."_

Hannah's eyes snapped wide open as the words got lost through her thoughts, panic taking over the innocent glee she'd been feeling about sharing a nice evening with her uncle. _No. _That was the only thing she could think of saying. _No. Not this. _

Bile rose in her throat at the thought of her uncle getting the message before her, finding out about what made her so different from other teenagers. One of the good things about her moving had been that no one knew about this, not even Chibs, and she'd been able to pretend to be just like any other girl. Not anymore, she thought, if this woman was able to get in touch with her uncle.

"_... we'd really appreciate if you could call us back. Though Hannah had been doing better in the last months, we fear the latest events might affect her."_

Hannah took a deep breath and slammed the phone back on the wall, unable to hear another word. She _was_ better, thank you very much, and needed that woman to put her smelly nose in someone else's business.

"What was it?" her uncle's voice came from the living room, and Hannah took a moment to compose herself before answering.

"Nothing," she lied, closing her eyes as she took calming breaths. "It was a wrong number."

Hannah pushed her shaking body towards the cupboard to take out a bag of popcorn, trying to forget about the sick feeling in her stomach. She'd be damned if she let her uncle find out about this.

"Hurry, I want popcorn!"

Her shaking fingers fumbled with the plastic wrap as she took a final breath, one sure to make her calm down. And it did. But when the last pop erupted from the microwave, Hannah's heart was still threatening to crawl out of her chest.

**Hello! Yes, I know, this took a lot longer to update than I thought, but I did my best! I hope everyone enjoys this and thank you, again, for all the reviews and the favourites and the subscribing =) Means so much to me. **

**On that note, please review and happy holidays!**


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